


in a moment we lost our minds here

by Lauren (notalwaysweak)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: M/M, Science Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 03:01:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysweak/pseuds/Lauren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PWP. Bringing scientific equipment into the bedroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in a moment we lost our minds here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [queerlyobscure (softestpunk)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/softestpunk/gifts), [daftalchemist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daftalchemist/gifts).
  * Inspired by [can you take me to that place?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/986440) by [Lauren (notalwaysweak)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysweak/pseuds/Lauren). 



> This is a follow up to 'can you take me to that place?' but if you haven't read that, the salient points are that Cecil has a cloaca and is physically blind but sees through the eyes of animals (usually a seeing eye rat).
> 
> Betaed by my own Cecil, queerlyobscure, who helps me make the words right.
> 
> Dedicated to daftalchemist, whose Tumblr posts about science kink were what made me go 'oh, all right, I should write the thing'.
> 
> * * *

“I’ve been distracted all day,” Cecil says. “I’m not sure agreeing to keeping the... the plug in was a good idea. All I’ve been able to think about is coming home so you could take it out.”He starts blushing at _plug_ and is red to the ears by the end.

“It’s not coming out just yet,” Carlos says.

Cecil pouts and wriggles in his seat. Carlos just twirls up another forkful of rice noodles and eats them. Cecil’s rat squeaks and he offers her a piece of chicken. Cecil apparently decides that this means he’s not going to get his way and dutifully finishes his dinner.

The bedroom is not so far away, though, and Carlos clears the table and then holds out his hand to his boyfriend. Cecil comes willingly, his rat balanced on his shoulder; she retreats to the bookshelves once they’re actually in the bedroom.

Carlos takes his time undressing Cecil, pausing for a long kiss after each piece of clothing hits the floor. It does nothing to lessen Cecil’s impatience.

“Do you really feel too uncomfortable? Because the plug can come out, if it’s really so bad.”

“No. I just... I like feeling full. I just hate it when it’s not you.”

Finally Carlos unbuttons his lab coat, letting it swing open, and pulls his soft, worn chinos off. In acknowledgement of his partner’s plug predicament, he’s gone without underwear. Some sacrifices need to be made in the name of science.

Cecil is less embarrassed now than he was at the dinner table, lying back against the pillows and spreading his legs. Carlos can see the dull gleam of the plug’s base; it’s smeared with Cecil’s fluids, and he can imagine how stretched and full that lowest aperture must feel.

He slips two fingers into Cecil’s middle opening, stroking slow against the fine membrane separating it from the cool metal of the plug -- well, hot metal by now, no doubt -- and Cecil whimpers and shivers under his touch.

“Don’t make me wait any more,” he says in a low, breaking-point voice.

Carlos can empathize; he’s not in the mood to wait either. The condoms and lube are close at hand though and he’s ready and pushing into Cecil’s heat within a minute. Cecil’s legs wrap around his hips and Cecil’s mouth is hungry against his mouth, his throat, his clavicle.

It is good. He can’t remember it ever not being good. Surprising, perhaps, the first couple of times, but never not good.

He’s reluctant to pull back, but pull back he does, repositioning himself so he’s on his knees, Cecil angled up to receive him (and letting loose a string of soft complaining sounds).

“Carlos--”

The pipette is in his breast pocket. Carlos pulls it out, tears away the sterile packaging, and touches the tip of it between Cecil’s legs.

Cecil’s reaction is shocking and immediate. His hips buck -- Carlos almost slips out of him entirely -- and he grabs Carlos’s wrist, giving him an entreating look out of unseeing eyes.

“What is it?” His tone is greedy.

Carlos works the rounded tip against him, rubbing it in Cecil’s fluids. “It’s called a graduated pipette.” He slips the first, slimmest half-inch in. Cecil’s fingers tighten on his wrist; his other hand is scrabbling at the sheets. “It’s for measuring and moving liquids.” The next half-inch goes in just as easily; Cecil is _so_ wet. “I use them in the lab...” He does the next full inch all at once and Cecil makes an unearthly beautiful keening sound. And he can feel it inside now, feel the fine push along the top of his cock, just as the solid roundness of the plug pushes against him from below.  “I thought I’d try using one on you.” Another inch, and he has to pin Cecil’s hip with his free hand to keep him from moving too much.

It is, after all, a delicate procedure.

He eases it in one more inch and then pauses; the last two inches, while perhaps half the width of his pinky, are still wider than the rest. “Not too much?”

“Give me it _all_.” Cecil tugs on his wrist, and Carlos -- slowly, carefully, _teasingly_ \-- obeys.

When the short, wide bulb is seated against Cecil’s skin, Carlos resumes moving within him, mindful not to be too rough, lest he knock the pipette loose. Cecil’s grip on his wrist never slackens, not even when both his hands are on Cecil’s hips instead of anywhere more interesting.

He’s hoping to try to make Cecil come twice, maybe three times, but although the extra stimulation soon has Cecil gasping out his name, it’s also too much for Carlos himself, and Cecil shuddering around him is his undoing.

The pipette slides out easily; Cecil sighs when it’s gone. Then Carlos pulls out, holding the base of the condom, and finally the plug comes out, and Cecil sprawls out, blinking and smiling too hard to say anything as Carlos cleans up.

“You need to bring more science things to bed,” he says when Carlos at last lies down beside him, rolling over to put his arm over Carlos’s waist and nuzzling against his shoulder.

“Oh, a lot of things are glass, or dangerous chemicals... I’m not sure I could think of anything else to bring.”

But he’s thinking of the potential of tongs, and all sorts of different clamps, and _really_ , he’s a _scientist_ ; it would be just plain _wrong_ if he didn’t experiment a little.


End file.
